


Battering Ram

by MashUpGames



Series: Tales of the Champion [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Anders Being Anders, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Broody Fenris (Dragon Age), Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Family Drama, Family Feels, Fluff, Hawke (Dragon Age) is Bad at Feelings, Jealous Fenris (Dragon Age), Merrill being Merrill, Mutual Pining, Pining, Protective Fenris, Varric Tethras is a Good Friend, implied arranged marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 08:22:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18426711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MashUpGames/pseuds/MashUpGames
Summary: Hawke, now a wealthy noble thanks to the Deep Roads expedition, has been able to give her mother a sense of dignity and security in Hightown. It was great for a few years, until her mother started talking about "appropriate" suitors.





	Battering Ram

**Author's Note:**

> It's late, I'm tired, and Hawke likes to hit stuff and flirt with Fenris. Leandra only knows about the first part, but won't be surprised by the second.

Hawke threw open the doors of the Hanged Man, moving through the crowd of patrons the same way she did a battlefield; like a battering ram. The warrior had no subtlety and little grace, half-shoving people and tables aside with a single-minded desperation until she made it to her companions table, slamming her hands down and blurting "Varric I need your help!".

Fenris hadn't even realized that he, Anders and Aveline were halfway out of their seats until she addressed the dwarf, but they none the less sat back down, although uneasily. Marian was almost never panicked, and to them her wild, pleading eyes, with hair twelve kinds of disheveled, seemed to them she was on the verge of hysteria. 

"Easy, easy, Hawke." The dwarf drawled, shuffling . "Take a deep breath and tell me what's going on."

Obligingly, she took a deep, shuddering breath, letting it out slowly. Then another, and again another. Her armor was clean, her battleaxe shining as much as anything did in the dim light of the seedy tavern. If she was taking the time to calm down, Fenris mused, then it was unlikely to be anything life threatening.

"My mother said she's going to look for me a noble husband."

Varric made a choking sound, and cards flew everywhere. Isabela started laughing, Aveliene and Merril both gave their leader confused stares, and Fenris just felt cold. He had known, of course, that their flirting would lead nowhere. He could not change what and who he was any more than he could change the arrangements of the constellations, but when she said no one else had her attention, when she seemed to give no pause to his ears or the chains he'd been held by in Tevinter, he had been foolish enough to let hope spark. What he had hoped for he hadn't known, but it was gone now. As a noble she would be expected to marry within that class, and as a loyal and loving daughter she would follow her mother's wishes. She was leagues above the nobles of Kirkwall, and he himself could never measure up even to them. She deserved better. 

Anders made a wounded noise, and stood up, pacing. It no secret among them that he fancied Hawke, and it gave Fenris a small bit of pleasure to know that the abomination had been shut down, even before Anso had thrown them together. 

"Your mother can't actually make you marry someone! You're a grown woman, free and independent! You technically own the Amell estate, you don't have to-"

"I know that Anders, calm down. My mother hasn't tried to make me do anything." Hawke almost sounded like herself in that moment. In control. 

"Oh. Well then..." The abomination trailed off and then sat back down. 

"If you don't want to be tied down, sweetheart, just tell her." Isabela said, drinking her ale. "Marriage is never any fun."

Hawke groaned, scrubbing a hand over her face and sitting down. "It's not getting married that I'm upset about. It's the 'noble' part I don't like." She looked at Varric pleadingly.

"While I'm flattered that you're asking me for advice, I'm not in the matchmaking buisness. What do you expect me to do?"

Hawke gave him the driest, most are-you-serious look Fenris had ever seen. "You could sell a pile of dirt to a nug-hill. I need your help convincing my mother not to set me up with someone without breaking her heart."

"That's easy," Merrill said cheerfully, "just tell her you have a lover." 

They all turned as one to stare at the tiny bloodmage. 

"Of course that will only work if you have one. If you don't saying so would be lying, and would probably make her sad." 

Hawke banged her head against the table, rattling the mug next to her. "I won't lie to her, but I can't tell her the truth either. Maker, why me?" she moaned.

"Why nobles specifically? You said it wasn't the marriage part that bothered you." Aveline asked.

"Aveliene," she asked sweetly, "have you ever met a noble that wasn't an ass?"

"Including you?" The guard captain grinned, "Just Seamus." 

Hawke was halfway to agreement with the redhead before realizing what was said, and then gave an indignant squawk that had the rest of the table laughing at her expense. The joke, while somewhat true, served to lighten the mood, and soon they all had a hand in Wicked Grace and the problem of suitors was all but forgotten. 

The night wore on, and some time after Aveliene had seen the abomination's safe return to Darktown, Hawke offered to walk Merrill home. The idea of her alone in Lowtown with the bloodmage had a dark feeling of dread twisting his stomach and the hair of his neck stand on end. His declaration that he would accompany them was met with surprise, confusion, and relief by Hawke, the bloodmage, and Varric respectively. It would save the dwarf coin, and himself worry. 

Hawke could handle any thug foolish enough to try her, but he knew she would hesitate to raise her blade against one she considered an ally. He would have no such hesitations. He walked with them. The streets were mostly quiet, a few drunken shouts in private hovels and the soft voices of his charges own chatter were all they faced on the way to the alienage. Hawke bade her goodnight, and at her elbow in his ribs gave a grumbled farewell. The door shut, and they wordlessly made their way back through the winding streets towards Hightown. 

Fenris had only meant to see her safely from the bloodmages grasp, but he stayed at her side, keeping step until she stopped in front of the Amell estate door. Kaffas, he hadn't even realized they'd entered the residential area. She turned to him then, leaning forward with an easy smile on her face. He caught the scent of her hair when it brushed against his chin, and he felt a warm press of lips against his cheek.

"Thank you for walking me home, Fenris." 

Heat crawled up his neck and ears,the blush thankfully hidden in the aclove's shadows. He coughed, trying to hide his embarrassment. "Aveliene would be very upset if she had another report of a missing woman." 

She laughed, making a quip about getting lost in the dark and adding to her friends' paperwork. This was easier. Witty banter came easily to him with Hawke, she took his cynicism and wry humor in stride, rolling with his swinging moods and even pushing him at times. Not to anger, not to humiliate like before, in Tevinter. The reactions the human woman wanted to push from him were smiles, laughter. Pain and suffering brought her no pleasure, it seemed. 

They said their goodbyes and he walked the cold stone back to his own empty abode in contemplation. She was not like other people, that was true. Hawke had sought coin for the expedition, and the expedition coin for her family. Her mother had appatently refused to let her uncle move with them to the estate, something that she had spent a few evenings bemoaning to him about over wine. 

"Mama was the favorite, apparently. Gamlen was the one that did everything for my grandparents, and never got a word of thanks. It's not fair Fenris, it's not right." She had been slumped on the table, an arm curled protectively around the bottle. 

Her pout would have been cute, had her eyes not been so full of sadness. He'd thought briefly of 'kissing and making it better', but dismissed it. He was a sight to look at, he knew, both in revulsion and lusty appreciation, but touch from a lyrium-infused body would not be welcome. Or so he had thought, anyway. 

Again, Hawke had shown that she was unlike other people, the unfinished ale they had left behind a witness against blaming the kiss on drunken folly. Fenris thought of their conversation years before, and her claim that no one else had her attention. Perhaps he still had it. And if her current problem was not suitors or marriage, but nobles? He might keep it for a time. He felt the hope spark again in his chest, a tingle that matched the one on his skin, where the normally tough, barbaric-like woman had been gentle.


End file.
